Portrait of a Fallen Angel
by Writingiswhatiam
Summary: He wasn't stalking her. He was loving her from afar.
1. Prologue

_Portrait of a Fallen Angel_

Prologue

He watched her prance up the sidewalk and the front porch steps from his car parked down the block. Her beautiful blond hair swayed behind her. He took out his camera and snapped a couple of shots. She turned, as if sensing him, and looked, but he knew his car was parked out of sight. He took a picture of her ever-so-pretty face, formed in a striking expression of curiosity.

She went inside her house and closed the door behind her. He could see her shadowy figure in her basement-bedroom, pulling her tank-top over her head and letting her blond hair flow freely around her shoulders. He took a picture of that as well. He wasn't stalking her. He was loving her from afar.

* * *

Now, nearly a year later, he looked at that very picture, the one of her body facing her house, her upper-body turned toward his car, her face looking directly at him and not seeing him. She was beautiful in this picture, in his eyes. He only wished that this was the way he could remember her for always. But she was proof that you can't always get what you wish. 


	2. Chapter 1: Face of God

_Portrait of a Fallen Angel_

Chapter 1: Face of God

* * *

_I'm drained but aching for more_

_And the devil inside_

_Is reading the words of the saddest poem_

_To be engraved on the stone of my grave_

At school, he would watch her. She'd ignored him ever since the gonorrhea incident and the nights in the ravine. Their relationship had only lasted for a couple of days, but it had been the most amazing couple of days he'd ever experienced. Not because she was good at what she did, but because she had seemed happy. He had been happy. If he had to do it all over again, he would have dumped Alex and Amy and the other girls he had been with and focused on Emma. Only Emma. She was beautiful

_I'd kill to share your pain_

_(And carry the shame)_

And she was in so much pain. Watching Rick die had nearly killed her inside. She was so fragile now. She wore a smile and a laugh, but she was different. She was not happy. She was slowly dying on the inside.

_And sell my soul for you just to say:_

_I dream what you're dreaming_

_And feel what you're feeling_

_Loves our shadow on the wall_

_With the face of God_

He knew they had so much in common. Secretly, he loved to read and to care about her issues. He had been to every single one of her rally's and protests. He had been there, encouraging her, watching her, threading in and out of the crowd so he wouldn't be seen. He was in love with this girl. This crusading, cause-driven, dedicated_, truly beautiful_ girl.

_Nothing will be enough_

_For the ones who keep on stumbling_

_In the garden of withering trust_

_With out the courage to leave_

He had to have her. He had to feel her love him. There had to be a way. Inside, he knew he could never have her. She would never be his. Her hear, if it belonged to anybody, belonged to the man who left her in Wasaga beach. To Sean.

_Oh, I'd take my life_

_For your kiss_

_(Grant me my wish)_

_And lose it all_

_to take you across the abyss_

He'd contemplated suicide many times. But he knew that if he killed himself, there would be no way he could have her then. He knew his love for her could take her places. Could take her away from her pain. It could carry her across the abyss of dark thoughts he could see swirling inside her pretty head. He could take her away, if only she would let him. He could end her pain.

_You dream what I'm dreaming_

_and see what I'm seeing_

_loves our shadow on the wall_

_with the face of God_

Several times she had looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. When she thought he wouldn't notice. He had even wondered if maybe, possibly, she could love him, too. Then he realized that he was not Sean Cameron, or Chris Sharpe. He was Jay. Delinquent, thug, Jay without any life and any future beyond the walls of Degrassi.

_Labrynth in the shape of a heart_

_loves secret architecture_

_I find myself to be lost_

_in the arms of your fate_

He would surrender himself to her, if only she would ask. If only she would hint that it was what she wanted. If she would do so much as smile at him, or acknowledge that he was alive. He was under her control. Her eyes locked him in, forcing him to love her. Her eyes, her hair, her face, her body, her voice, her talent, her…it all drove him crazy.

* * *

The way this chapter works: There is a song verse from HIM's "Face of God". The paragraph underneath the verse relates the verse to Jay. For instance, paragraph 1 explains how Jay feels drained, like the devil inside is reading the saddest poem. Get it?**

* * *

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**Return to Top**


	3. Chapter 2: Magdalena

_Portrait of a Fallen Angel_

Chapter 2: Magdalena

_

* * *

Overcome by this holiest of altars  
so pure, so rare to witness such an earthly goddess  
that I've lost my self control_

Jay sat in his parked car, as he did many nights, waiting for Emma to come home. He looked at his watch. It was 8:30, and Emma came home promptly at 8:36 every night. She would go to the library until then. Or sometimes she would sit in the park until it became too dark to read. Usually she would go to Manny's. Jay didn't know how much longer he could stand this, this compelling urge to go to her and heal her. To kiss her pain away. To feel her arms around him. He had been such an idiot to reject this goddess. But how was he supposed to know that he would fall in love with her when she was on stage. When she had said, _"What have I done to deserve this? I, who have walked in meekness for all of my days?"_ the line had fit Emma so perfectly.He could see it.He could see her asking herself, asking her God the very same question. What had she done to deserve to watch Rick die? What had she done to deserve the wayJay hadtreated her? What had she done to deserve such a tragic fate?

_Beyond compelled to throw this dollar down  
before your holiest of altars  
I'd sell my soul,  
my self esteem a dollar at a time for  
one chance,  
one kiss,  
one taste of you my Magdalena_

He would give anything to be with her. He would sell his soul. He would sell himself, or all of his earthly possessions. He'd sell his car, his stereo system. He would give her anything she wanted if she would only be with him. Her kiss had tasted so good. Her lips had been so soft. Her hand, rested gently on the curve between his shoulder and his neck, her gentle fingertips brushing against his skin. He had savored every moment. He dreamed about it. He desired it. He would kill for it.

_I bear witness to this place,  
this prayer so long forgotten  
so pure, so rare to witness such an earthly goddess_

He had actually prayed for her to notice him. Jay, who did not believe in God, had bended on his knees and worshiped the very God he used to make fun of. He had begged. He had pleaded. And he had wept when his prayers had remained unanswered.

_One chance,  
one kiss,  
one taste of you my black Madonna  
I'd sell my soul,  
my self esteem a dollar at a time for  
one taste of you my Magdalena_

All he wanted was one kiss. One kiss and he would have her forever.

* * *

Song: Magdalena, from A Perfect Circle. 


	4. Chapter 3: Sleeping Beauty

With the exception of the last section in the prologue, the last few chapters took place in the past, as flashbacks. This chapter joins Jay in the future.

Portrait of a Fallen Angel

Chapter 3: Sleeping Beauty

* * *

Jay sat on his bed, looking at the picture of Emma. She was lying in her own bed. She was sleeping. Sleeping so beautifully. Her hair fell around her face, in perfect condition, even as she slept. Such a beautiful girl. Such a beautiful girl who had such a tragic life. 

The phone next to him rang, and Jay reached for it. He cleared his throat. "What?" he said into the receiver.

"Its me, man," Sean's voice came from the other end of the telephone.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat again. He pushed his tears away.

"I just wanted to make sure you were coming today."

"Of course I'm coming."

"Good,"he said. "The service starts at noon."

"I know. I got the letter."

"I just wanted to make sure."

"I'll be there. I have to go. Bye." Jay hung up

Again, he looked at the picture of her sleeping. He almost smiled, remembering the day it had been taken.

* * *

For some reason, he had been particularly brave that day. Once he was sure Emma was safely sleeping in her room, he had sneaked in through her window. He was so quiet, so mouse-like, that even he couldn't hear his own breathing. He looked at her sleeping angel face as she lay in her bed. 

He took a picture and she stirred. He took another one and then hid behind the shower curtain to the laundry room. When he was sure she was asleep he left out the window.

He looked back at her house on the street and smiled. "Someday, Emma," he said. "You will be mine. No matter what."

* * *

Jay cleared his throat again and stood up. He brushed the tears away. He straightened the wrinkles in his slacks and made sure all of the buttons on his shirt were buttoned in the right holes. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He couldn't believe what he was about to witness.

* * *

He pulled up to the church and stepped out of his car. It took every ounce of courage he had towalk up the steps of that church. He stopped at the door. A huge knot formed in his throat, his hands were clammy, he was sweating. He cleared his throat for the fifteenth time in the past five minutes, wiped his hands on his pants, and took a deep breath. This was going to be the hardest thing he would ever have to do. 


	5. Chapter 4: Ghost of you

_Portrait of a Fallen Angel_

Chapter 4: Ghost of You

_I never said id lie in wait forever_

_If I died we'd be together_

_I cant always just forget her_

_But she could try_

He stepped inside the church, his mind flashing back to another event that had made him notice Emma more than normal. It was shortly after Rick came back. Emma had tripped him in the dot, and Rick became really mad. He looked like he was going to hit her. And that's when Jay dragged him outside and punched him. Everybody was going to beat him up, but Emma had stood between _Alex_ and Rick, pushing Alex away and telling them to leave him alone. Such an act of bravery, Jay had thought, and it amazed him.

As he walked down the aisle to find a pew, Jay couldn't help to think that if Emma had noticed him, talked to him, or even tried to like him, things would have turned out differently. People around him were all dressed in black. Shocked looks on their faces. They couldn't believe what had happened. It could have been different, Jay kept telling himself; it didn't have to be this way.

He looked at the front of the church, where Spike and Snake and Manny were gathered around Emma's coffin. He walked up to them cautiously, afraid of what he would see. Lying inside the dark brown casket was the beautiful love of his life. Her blond hair spread out on the pillow, her arms at her sides. People used to say that the dead looked peaceful when they are buried, after the morticians have made them look 'like the people they were when they were alive'. Someone who didn't know Emma, someone who hadn't really paid attention to her, someone who had just seen her masquerade, would have said, "she looks beautiful. She looks like she has found peace." But the truth was that she didn't look like Emma. She looked pale, and unhappy. She looked dead. His mind flashed back to the way she got that way.

_At the end of the world_

_Or the last thing I see_

_You are_

_Never coming home_

_Never coming home_

Jay had been waiting for Emma outside of her house. He was in his car, parked out of sight. He hadn't seen her much all day and he was getting impatient. That's when he saw it. She was walking down the street, her beautiful blond hair swaying back and forth. Her fragile hands laced with Peters.

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the things that you never ever told me_

_And all the smiles that are ever ever..._

_Ever..._

The anger inside him began to build. Emma was his. She belonged to him. He loved her. He watched her every move. And now she was with the very pervert that had exposed Manny Santos to the entire school? He couldn't allow that to happen.

Once she was inside, he saw her silhouette through the window. He waited long enough for her to go to sleep, and then he walked up to her window and climbed down through it.

But she wasn't in her bed.

He saw her shadow, in the bathroom. He heard the sounds of her vomiting. And his heart shattered. How could she hurt herself like this? Was her body not as sacred to her as it was to him? How could she not see how beautiful she was?

Before he had a chance to hide, Emma came out of the bathroom.

"Jay, what are you doing here?" she asked, startled.

"I…I…Emma, I love you," he blurted out.

Her eyes narrowed in a look of disgust. "Do you need another blowjob or something, because I don't do that anymore," she said, pulling the blankets of her bed down.

_Get the feeling that you're never_

_All alone and I remember now_

_At the top of my lungs in my arms she dies_

_She dies_

The comment shattered him. And he lost it. In a couple of steps, he was in front of her, his hands around her throat. The look on her face was terrified. Shocked. Relieved.

"I'm sorry, Emma,' he was saying. "I'm so sorry. I love you. I only wanted to help you. I want to end your pain."

She struggled a little bit, trying to claw at his hands, trying to breath. But the anorexia had made her lose her strength and she couldn't fight long. Her body went limp underneath his hands.

Tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry, Emma." He picked her up and laid her down in her bed. He pulled the blankets up over her.

He kissed her on the cheek. "You're pain is over now," he said.

She looked peaceful.

_At the end of the world_

_Or the last thing I see_

_You are_

_Never coming home_

_Never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the things that you never ever told me_

_And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me_

_Never coming home_

_Never coming home_

_Could I? Should I?_

_And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me_

_For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me_

_If I fall_

_If I fall (down)_

_At the end of the world_

_Or the last thing I see_

_You are_

_Never coming home_

_Never coming home_

Now, standing above the casket of his beautiful Emma, his tears began to fall. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her and to lie across her casket and cry his eyes out. But he couldn't do any of that. All he could do was watch as her body was lowered into the cold ground.


End file.
